


Maybe I'll Let Myself Love You

by bellarkebc



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: A whole bunch of random stuff, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Best Friends, Canon Compliant, Confessions, F/M, Friends to Lovers, High School AU, I'll add more tags as i go, Jealousy, Mutual Pining, Nerd Bellamy Blake, Popular Clarke, Season 4 divergence, bellamy gets hurt, clarke gets scared, egging finn 'I'm a douche' collins' car, hospital au, season 5 speculation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2019-06-07 15:05:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 8,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15221798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellarkebc/pseuds/bellarkebc
Summary: A collection of bellarke one-shots/ drabbles based on tumblr prompts





	1. Index

**Chapter 2**  - “Did you really think I’d leave?”

  
**Chapter 3**  - “You’re jealous, aren’t you?”

  
**Chapter 4**  - “I think I’ve been holding myself back from falling in love with you all over again.”

  
**Chapter 5**  - “Stay the night. Please.”

  
**Chapter 6**  - “I’m not jealous.” and “You’re jealous, aren’t you?”

  
**Chapter 7**  - “You have to tell me why we’re committing a felony before we do it. Not that that’s going to stop us, but at least I’ll have all the facts.”

  
**Chapter 8**  - “I don’t think I’ve ever played spin the bottle.”

  
**Chapter 9**  - “Those things you said yesterday… Did you mean them?” and "I shouldn't be in love with you!” 

  
**Chapter 10**  - “Do you want me to leave?” and “Stay the night. Please.” 

  
**Chapter 11**  - “I’m going to take care of you okay?” and “You can’t die. Please don’t die.” and “It’s midnight, what do you want?” 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 142 - “Did you really think I’d leave?”

 

~ ~

Clarke had accepted her fate. It seemed, even after 6 years of peace, she could not outrun death. She still had to pay penance for the crimes she had committed in her youth. 

_Youth_. Sure she was still young—barely through her twenties—but Earth had made her feel old. Tired. She would give anything to be back in Eden with Madi. Spearing fish, dyeing hair, trying to get the damn radio to work….she missed her life before Eligius came down and they opened pandora’s box. 

An ache starts in her chest. 

Would she really wish all of this away—her reunion with her friends and family…with Bellamy…just to put off her impending doom?

“Wanheda the commander of death,” she mutters humourlessly—too bad her namesake did not give her the ability to command her own.

A rattling sound from outside her cell alerts her, making her body go cold—numb.

It was time then. Octavia— _no Octavia is dead—_ Bloodreina, would execute her and it would all be over. 

_Madi._

Her heart aches for her daughter. But at least she would be safe now. Bellamy had promised. He would get her away from this place.

Flashes of dark eyes and freckles— and the sensation of his lips against her bare skin—appears at the forefront of her mind but Clarke pushes it back. _Now is not the time_.

Clarke stands up from her position on the metal bunk and slowly turns around as the cell door swings open. 

“Is it-” Clarke starts, lifting her eyes to the figure that enters into her cell, “-Bellamy?”

“We’ve gotta move,” he says quickly, eyes darting over her to check for injuries.

“What are you doing?” Clarke hisses, glancing behind him, expecting to see a bunch of angry grounders, “Where’s Madi? I asked you to keep her safe!”

“She’s with Monty and Harper in the rover. We’re getting out of here,” Bellamy says, getting impatient and wrapping a hand around Clarke’s bare arm to drag her along. 

“But Octavia-” Clarke starts placing a hand over his and pulling it off her arm, leaving goosebumps behind.

“Has been dealt with,” Bellamy says quietly, his eyes dropping for a second, before, “Did you really think I’d leave you behind,” his dark eyes lift to hers—searching, “again?” 

Clarke’s throat closes at the intensity of his gaze. His eyes briefly drop to her lips and Clarke is suddenly aware of their proximity. A beat passes—two. Before Bellamy clears his throat and steps back slightly, making Clarke blink.

“Let’s go,” Bellamy says, leading her out of her cell.

Clarke, a little breathless, follows behind him—into the jaws of the enemy.

_Now is not the time._

~ ~

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come find me on tumblr: [bellarkebc](https://bellarkebc.tumblr.com/)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 8 - “You’re jealous, aren’t you?”

 

~ ~

They’d been living at peace for about two weeks in Shallow Valley when Raven made a quiet observation that tore down the carefully constructed walls of denial Clarke had placed around her heart. 

“You’re jealous, aren’t you?” Raven says, after sitting in silence beside Clarke at the fire for about five minutes. 

“Wha- jealous of what?” Clarke splutters, tearing her eyes away from Bellamy and Echo. 

Raven raises an eyebrow, pointedly looks over at the couple who share quiet words as they put together ration packs, before she stands up, and pats Clarke consolingly on the back. 

“He couldn’t even bring himself to say your name for about 4 years after we left,” Raven says quietly as she starts to leave, “He never really got over you.” 

“But he never…we never…” Clarke trails off. 

“But you would’ve, if we hadn’t left y-” she stops, looking down guiltily, before she clears her throat, “I’m going to go find Shaw.” 

Clarke watches as she leaves, clenching her jaw and running a shaky hand through her hair. If she had just gotten to the rocket on time- _no Clarke_ \- if she had gotten to the rocket, she never would have met Madi. And there’s no way Madi would have survived on her own for 6 years. No matter how tough she was. 

Clarke runs a hand tiredly over her face, taking a deep breath. As she stands, she feels someone’s eyes on her. Knowing immediately that it’s Bellamy, she takes a second to compose herself, before she meets his gaze. 

_You okay?_ He seems to say with his eyes, raising an eyebrow slightly. Echo says something to him but he doesn’t look away from Clarke, his eyes concerned. Clarke feels herself wilt a little when Echo looks from Bellamy’s face over to hers, pursing her lips a little before looking down. 

Clarke nods at him, her shoulders feeling a little heavier at the sight of Echo putting a hand on his arm, and turns around to go find Madi. 

She has a new family, and so does he. 

But maybe one day they’d join again. 

_She still has hope._

~ ~

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come find me on tumblr: [bellarkebc](https://bellarkebc.tumblr.com/)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 85 - “I think I’ve been holding myself back from falling in love with you all over again.”

~ ~

Seeing Bellamy Blake again for the first time in six years, resurfaced a lot of old feelings and emotions.

First it was anger—anger at the way he had left things…how he had left her behind without a word the day he graduated. She hadn't known what made him leave or where he had even gone, for years after he left. Until of course, she stumbled across his little sister Octavia, now all grown up, on Facebook and saw a post with him geotagged on the other side of the country. Prick had finally gotten Facebook and never even sent her a lousy friend request. 

Then it was fear—fear that she had done something that made him leave, or fear that her treacherous heart would fall for him again…she didn’t know which was worse. But when he had finally laid eyes on her from the other side of the bar for the first time in what felt like centuries, all of her anger and fear had faded away. 

And she was left with relief. 

He didn’t seem angry or even try to leave after recognition flooded his eyes. _No_. She had watched as he let out a massive breath and let his body relax as if a massive weight had been taken off of his shoulders. 

Clarke’s heart had hammered in her chest as he had made his way towards her, weaving in between drunks and tipsy people dancing. His eyes had never left hers. 

“I finally found you,” he had said, a massive grin across his face and relief swirling in his eyes. He had reached out a hesitant hand towards her, and Clarke— _and her treacherous heart dammit_ —had let him touch her. Hug her. Hold her.

And she had breathed him in, clung to him tightly, and let stupid heartsick tears spring to her eyes. 

“I’m so sorry,” he had said against her skin, his hand reaching up to her hair. 

And she had forgiven him then and there. She had listened to his piss poor attempt at explaining that he had run away because he was scared of being loved, that he had to find himself or whatever bullshit he had said. And she had never brought it up again. 

Instead, she had put up a guard around her heart and only let him in so far.

_It’s better this way_ she’d try to justify. 

It felt weak to even her own ears. 

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

“What’s been up with you lately?” Bellamy asks, 6 long months after reasserting himself back into her life, “You’ve been acting weird for a couple weeks now.” 

“What do you mean?” Clarke asks back, knowing exactly what he means. She’d tried, really hard, to keep old hurt and fears from inhibiting their newfound friendship—but doubt had slowly been creeping back into her mind. _What if he left again? What if she finally let him in and he took off?_

She’d been subtly avoiding his touch for a month. 

“Well for starters, if you move any further away from me, you’ll probably fall off the couch,” Bellamy says, pointedly looking at the foot of space Clarke had placed between them, “And you don’t talk to me anymore.” 

“What do you mean? I talk to you,” Clarke defends, not moving any closer. 

“About the weather and how your day at work was. Come on Clarke,” he says, “when I first arrived to watch movies with you, you talked about the new coffee machine you got at work, the weather radar, and then the price change of your favourite chips.” 

Clarke looks down at her feet, picking at the peeling nail polish awkwardly.

“You may be talking to me, but you’re not saying anything,” he says, softening his voice slightly.

“I think…” she starts, mumbling quietly to herself, before Bellamy leans over and places a gentle hand under her chin to lift her eyes to his. 

“What?” he prompts gently, eyes searching hers. Clarke feels her facade break a little. Bellamy is looking at her, touching her—so incredibly soft—and she can’t get her head or her heart out of the past. 

“I think I’ve been holding myself back from falling in love with you all over again.”

Bellamy stills. And Clarke feels like her heart is in her throat. 

“Why?” he asks, his voice quiet. 

“Because you’ll leave me again.” 

His face seems to crumble, and Clarke—feeling awful—flees from the room. Grabbing her phone and keys, she makes her way to her front door. As she hops slightly in an attempt to pull on her shoes, she hears Bellamy come up behind her. 

“Clarke,” he says. 

“I’m sorry I shouldn't have said that- I’m just- I’m going to-” she reaches for the door handle but Bellamy stops her, placing his hand over hers and spinning her around to face him. 

“Bellamy,” she breathes, feeling the urge to step back. His eyes are crazed and his hair is sticking up—like he had just tugged his hand through it. 

“I will never leave you again Clarke,” he says earnestly, sliding his hand up to her shoulders, clinging to her tightly, “Not unless you want me to.” 

She stays quiet and Bellamy seems to lose his nerve, letting her go and nodding to himself, “Okay…If that’s what…If that’s what you want, then I’ll-”

“Please don’t leave me,” Clarke bursts, gripping tightly to his shirt to hold him in place, “I want to learn to love you again…I want…” she looks down briefly before stepping closer to him, her throat closing, “I want to allow myself to love you again.” 

He surges forwards to catch her lips and Clarke feels the walls around her heart start to crumble. 

“I love you,” he says against her lips, “I will never leave you again, and I’ll spend the rest of my life proving that to you. As long as it takes.” 

And, as she feels Bellamy press his lips gently to her forehead, her fingers still curled into his shirt, she believes him.

_Maybe I’ll let myself love you._

_~ ~_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come find me on tumblr: [bellarkebc](https://bellarkebc.tumblr.com/)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 12 - “Stay the night. Please.”

 

~ ~

“You still have hope?” Clarke asks in disbelief. 

“We still breathing?” Bellamy replies, tightening the grip on her shoulder and giving her a half smile. 

A half smile for a half joke. 

Clarke suddenly feels overwhelming fondness for the man standing beside her. Supporting her. The only one to continuously do so. Reaching up and placing her hand over his, Clarke closes her eyes and rests her head on their joined hands. She lets out a shuddering breath when she feels the ghost of Bellamy’s other hand stroke over her hair. 

“You should get some sleep,” Bellamy says softly, slowly removing his hand. Clarke leans back up and gives him a watery smile to mask some of the hurt, nodding her head. 

As Bellamy starts to leave, hysteria suddenly rises in Clarke—the fear of being alone again through this—overwhelming. Knowing Bellamy, he probably wouldn't stray too far from the room as she slept, but she wanted him to stay. She wanted him to stay with her. 

“Wait,” Clarke gets out as his hand reaches the door handle. He turns back slightly in question, his hand still on the handle. Clarke gulps, her bravery seemingly vanishing. 

“What is it?” Bellamy prompts.

“Stay the night,” Clarke barely whispers, but Bellamy seems to hear, “Please.” 

Her brain starts to formulate possible ways to laugh off the suggestion as he hesitates, but before she can voice any, he nods slowly—stiltedly—and walks towards her. 

“Thank you,” Clarke says, relief flowing through her body. 

Bellamy walks over to the couch he had been napping at before and sits down on it, his eyes flitting up shyly to hers. Biting her lip, Clarke gets up from her seat in front of the list, wipes her face and steps up in front of him. 

“Do you have a preference?” Bellamy asks quietly, gesturing to the couch. Clarke shakes her head and Bellamy leans down to remove his boots—unlike before. 

As he scoots up against the backrest off the couch and lays down, Clarke feels a thickness in her throat. Sure, they’d hugged before, held hands and she’d even kissed his cheek in a moment of unexplainable grief—but this was a line they’d never crossed before. A level of intimacy they had not reached. 

Clarke sits down on the edge of the couch and starts to unlace her own boots, and places them beside Bellamy’s. As she lays down on her back, her arm presses against Bellamy’s chest due to the small size of the couch. Turning onto her side, and placing an arm under her head, Clarke’s heart starts to thud loudly in her chest. She can feel Bellamy’s warmth at her back, and his breath on her neck. But there is still a space between them that neither seems brave enough to cross. 

Until Bellamy is. 

Clarke freezes slightly under his touch as he brings his arm over her and settles it around her middle.

“Is this okay?” Bellamy asks, gruff. 

“Yeah,” Clarke says breathlessly, placing her hand over his, “It’s okay.” 

Settling back against the warmth of his chest, Clarke closes her eyes and allows herself to finally have a moment of peace. 

And as their hearts started to beat as one, and Bellamy presses his lips to her hair, Clarke knows that it will always be them.

It will always be Bellamy and Clarke…

 

_Together against the world._

~ ~

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come find me on tumblr: [bellarkebc](https://bellarkebc.tumblr.com/)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 7 and 8 - “I’m not jealous.” and “You’re jealous, aren’t you?”

 

**** ~ ~

Bellamy and Clarke had never been a PDA heavy couple. Sure, they’d hold hands or give each other quick pecks every now and then, and Bellamy had this thing with fiddling with the ends of Clarke’s hair or resting a hand on her hip with his fingers curling under her shirt….okay so maybe PDA was something they did—but this….what Bellamy was doing right now…was down right ridiculous. 

“Bellamy what are you doing?” Clarke asks quietly as he presses kisses up her neck and wraps his arms around her middle from behind. He hums but doesn't respond. Clarke looks up at the man—Finn she thinks—who she had been talking to and gives him an awkward smile. 

“Sorry,” she says as a weird expression crosses his face. Finn gives her a tight-lipped smile in response and mumbles some excuse about getting another drink as he quickly leaves the room and enters the throng of the party. 

“Bellamy,” Clarke laughs as he reaches her jaw. Clarke lifts her hand to his hair and pulls him away slightly so she can turn in his arms. He looks at her with a playful smile as she leans back into his clasped arms. 

“What was that?” she asks, amused. She quirks an eyebrow as his face reddens slightly and he ducks his head. 

“I just missed you,” he shrugs. 

“And that was the only reason?” she inquires, lifting a hand to push a curl back from his face. He hums in affirmation but Clarke doesn’t believe him. Searching his eyes and then looking behind him to the place Finn had disappeared, Clarke smirks a little. 

“You were jealous, weren’t you?” 

Bellamy stiffens, “I wasn’t jealous,” he mumbles, a frown appearing. 

Clarke stands up on her tippy toes and presses a light kiss to the crease in between his brows, making his face soften. 

“You were totally jealous,” she teases, stepping out of his arms and opening the fridge behind her to grab a soda. 

“I was not,” Bellamy denies, stubbornly avoiding her eyes. 

“We were just talking,” Clarke says as she opens the can and takes a sip, “He said he recognised me from Raven’s Facebook and wanted to know how my art program was going.” 

Bellamy grumbles a little, taking the drink from Clarke’s hand and having a sip before handing it back to her, “He was doing the lean,” he mutters. 

“The lean?” Clarke asks, rolling her eyes, “What the hell is the lean?”

“You know…the I’m-interested-in-you lean.”

“Uhh…no I have never heard of this so-called lean,” Clarke laughs. 

Bellamy huffs, raking a hand through this curls and making them stick up everywhere, “I just…I didn’t like the way he was looking at you,” he admits quietly. Clarke sobers at that, placing her drink down on the counter and taking a couple steps towards him. 

“Bellamy,” she says, reaching up to smooth down his curls, “you have nothing to be jealous of.” 

Bellamy leans into her touch, turning his head slightly so he can press a kiss to her wrist. 

“Come on,” Clarke grins, dropping her hand to link it with his, “you still owe me a dance.” 

“Anything you want princess,” Bellamy smiles, following Clarke into the mass of people by their clasped hands, “anything you want.” 

~ ~

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come find me on tumblr: [bellarkebc](https://bellarkebc.tumblr.com/)


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 89 - “You have to tell me why we’re committing a felony before we do it. Not that that’s going to stop us, but at least I’ll have all the facts.”

 

~ ~

“You want me to bring what?” Bellamy asks through the phone, sure he misheard.

“4 dozen eggs, one of your black hoodies, and a packet of skittles,” Clarke repeats.

“Okay…and you want me to bring that because…?” Bellamy asks slowly, not putting two-and-two together.

“Just do it please,” Clarke says, abruptly hanging up.

Bellamy moves the phone from his ear and pockets it, shaking his head. Yeah he knew that sometimes Clarke got in these strange moods and sometimes asked for weird shit—like that time she’d told him to bring over milk, red paint, a sponge and an empty plastic bottle. He hadn’t known at the time it was for some weird art project she had wanted to try…but this time the request seemed different. Especially because she asked him to meet her at some random suburb instead of at her apartment. And also because it was 10pm at night.

He would still compile all the weird shit she wanted and bring it to her though—no matter how skeptical he was.  _He was a good friend okay?_

As he reached the street Clarke had asked him to meet her, recognition clicked in his brain. It hadn’t clicked initially, that he knew someone who lived in this snooty suburb, but once he pulled over beside where Clarke was sitting on the sidewalk, everything fell into place.

“Finn Collins huh?” Bellamy asks as he gets out of his car, placing everything she wanted in her lap.

“Finn fucking Collins,” Clarke agrees, putting the stuff to the side and pulling on his hoodie. He raises an eyebrow but she shrugs, “I underestimated how cold it would be,” she admits.

Bellamy simply nods, locking his car and coming to sit beside her. He leans back on his hands and looks out at the house—Finn’s old house no doubt—Clarke is staring at with a sour expression. Suddenly, she stands up, brushes her hands on her pants and reaches for the eggs, looking at Bellamy as if to say  _‘You coming?’_

The first egg Clarke throws at the car parked out front misses by a small margin, making Clarke let out a hiss of frustration—her competitive streak getting the best of her. Bellamy stands silently beside her, passing her egg after egg as she pegs them at different parts of the car, grinning with her in satisfaction whenever she lands a hit. After they make it through all the eggs, without alerting any neighbours or setting of the car alarm  _(thank god)_ , they rush back to Bellamy’s car giggling like children. Bellamy starts the car and does a U turn at the end of the street, making his way back to Clarke’s apartment.

“Okay…so I know Finn was a dick…and that he used to live there…” Bellamy starts after driving in silence for a little while, “But you have to tell me why we’re committing a felony before we do it. Not-” he continues as Clarke looks up at him in concern, “-that that’s going to stop us, but at least I’ll have all the facts.”

“He moved back a week ago,” Clarke says quietly, grabbing the packet of skittles and tearing it open. Bellamy almost laughs—of course she manipulated him into buying snacks for her.

“I wouldn’t have been bothered…” Clarke rolls her eyes at Bellamy’s quirked eyebrow, “Okay I wouldn't have been  _as_  bothered if he had just left me alone. But he came into my work the other day and told me he wanted me back.”

Bellamy grinds his teeth, his fingers tightening on the wheel.

“I told him to fuck off obviously, but he hasn’t been getting the message so…” Clarke gestures vaguely in the air.

“So we egged Finn’s car and not just some random stranger’s who was just unlucky enough to move into the prick’s old house?” Bellamy asks, working through it in his brain.

“Yeah that was Finn’s car,” Clarke confirms.

“We should have let out the air in the tires too,” Bellamy deadpans, making Clarke burst out laughing. Pride rises in his chest.

“So what now?” Bellamy asks, looking over at Clarke in the passenger seat, before looking back over at the road. He can see her drop her face slightly into his hoodie and pull at the sleeves so they cover her hands, in his peripherals.

“Movie night?” Clarke asks.

“Sure.”

_He’d do anything for her._

~ ~

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come find me on tumblr: [bellarkebc](https://bellarkebc.tumblr.com/)


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 99 - “I don’t think I’ve ever played spin the bottle.”

 

~ ~

The first time Clarke Griffin had sat down at his empty table for lunch, he was sure he was getting pranked.

“Hi, I’m Clarke!” she had said cheerfully, putting her tray full of food down, opposite his.

Bellamy had looked up in confusion, lowering his book and looking around the cafeteria to see if anyone was secretly filming.  _Popular girl pranks school nerd…what a hysteric-on._

“Uh…Bellamy,” he muttered, narrowing his eyes when he couldn’t find anyone.

“What are you looking for?” Clarke asked, swivelling around in her seat and scanning the crowd like he had been.

“Nothing,” he mumbled. Shrugging to herself, Clarke turned back around and started eating her food in silence. After staring at her for a beat too long, he quietly went back to his book, every now and then eating some of the goop that he had been served.

She stayed silent for a while, scrolling through her phone and eating her food—seemingly comfortable sitting in silence at an empty table with him, instead of surrounded by her usual crowd.

“Do you want my pudding?” she asked suddenly, breaking Bellamy out of his immersion into the greek battle he’d been reading.

“What?”

“My pudding,” Clarke said, lifting it towards him with a smile, “Do you want it?”

Bellamy reached out hesitantly, waiting for her to yell  _sike!_ and dump it on him or something. But she stayed perfectly still, a beautiful smile on her face, offering him the only edible thing from the cafeteria.

“Thanks,” he muttered quietly, his face sightly red from the way their fingers had brushed against each other.

“No problem,” she said, leaning back into her chair and turning on her phone again.

And that had been the start of an unlikely friendship. (Bellamy had found out very quickly that once Clarke Griffin decided she was friends with someone—she was friends with them for  _life_ ).

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

“Do we have to go to the party?” Bellamy whines, laying on his stomach on Clarke’s bed, clutching her pillow as she does her makeup.

“Yes Bellamy we have to go to the party,” she mimics in his whiny voice, making Bellamy huff and flip over onto his back, hugging the pillow to his chest. “We’re almost finished high school Bell and you haven’t been to a single party! We’re righting things with the world.”

He hears more than sees Clarke stand up and walk towards him. He feels the bed shift as she sits near his head, and lets out a small noise of protest as she takes the pillow from his arms and places it back on her bed.

“If you feel uncomfortable at any point,” she says, running a hand through his curls, “We’ll leave okay?”

“Okay,” he mumbles, closing his eyes when she starts to lazily scratch at his scalp.

“Alright,” Clarke says roughly after a moment of silence, patting the side of his face, making him scrunch up his nose and open his eyes in protest, “Let’s go party.”

Bellamy watches as she clears her throat and gets up off of the bed to grab her phone from her desk. Crawling off her bed, he stands and follows her—already dreading going to a party that will no doubt be full of drunk hormonal teenagers.

But at least Clarke would be with him.

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

When they arrive, the music is loud, the house is crowded, and Bellamy can feel his hands becoming clammy.

“Just relax,” Clarke says through the corner of her mouth as they weaved their way through the house, “I can hear you overthinking all the way from over here.”

Bellamy rolls his eyes but does take a deep breath, stepping closer to Clarke. For the next hour or so, Bellamy feels like he’s being really annoying—hanging around Clarke like a bad smell as she goes between groups and talks to  _every. single. person_  at the party. Seriously.  _How does she know so many people??_

During one particular conversation, he thinks its with this guy called Finn or something, Bellamy is awkwardly standing near her shoulder, pretending not to be eavesdropping by awkwardly scanning the room, when he feels someone grab his hand. Startling slightly, his eyes drop to see Clarke’s pale hand reaching back to lace her fingers with his. When he looks up to ask her what she’s doing, however, she isn’t looking at him—is still in steady conversation with the Finn guy.

If he didn’t know her well, he probably would have thought she was fine—just offering  _him_ comfort or something, but as Bellamy scans her face, he recognises the tightness of her smile and coldness in her eyes, and realises she’s uncomfortable. Extremely uncomfortable. Taking a look back at Finn and his sleazy smile and boyband haircut, he can understand why.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt,” Bellamy speaks up for the first time that night, tightening his grip on Clarke’s hand, and making Finn purse his lips, “but I need to talk to Clarke for a second…” he says awkwardly, “over there…”

Clarke doesn’t seem to mind his pathetic attempt at a getaway, and instead jumps at the opportunity, dragging him by his hand through the throng of people.

“Thank you so much,” Clarke breathed, running a hand through her hair, “Finn is such a sleaze ball.”

“Anytime princess,” Bellamy replied, adjusting the grip she has on his hand to make it more comfortable.

“I hope this isn’t too boring for you,” she says, looking up into his eyes, “I promise we won’t stay too much longer—we can go get some takeout and binge watch that new documentary you’ve been excited about.”

Bellamy smiles, reaching up to smooth over the worry lines that had formed on her face, “I’m fine Clarke, I promise, we can stay as long as you want.”

She smiles back, and is about to add more before a yell from another room interrupts her.

“We’re playing spin the bottle if anyone wants to join!”

Clarke looks back over at him mischievously, raising an eyebrow in question.

“I don’t think I’ve ever played spin the bottle,” he admits shyly, bringing a hand up to the back of his neck.

Clarke gapes at him for a moment before yanking him along into the other room.  _Oh dear._

“Alriiiiight Griffin!” Raven Reyes calls as they enter the room. Clarke tugs him towards the people seated in a circle, and they take a seat next to each other.

“Blake right?” Raven asks, eyes sweeping appraisingly over his body. Bellamy doesn’t miss the subtle way Clarke seems to lean closer to him.

“Yeah, Bellamy.”

Raven nods, chugging the last of her drink, before placing the empty glass bottle in the middle of the circle.

“Well I think the newcomer can do the honours,” Raven says sitting back, gesturing for Bellamy to go first. Bellamy gulps and crawls into the circle, reaching his hand forwards and giving the bottle a hard spin. He slowly moves back towards Clarke as it spins, his throat closing.  _Why did I agree to this?_

It starts to slow and Bellamy’s heart pounds. As it stops spinning, Bellamy’s eyes flit from the end of the bottle to the person it’s pointing to.  _Oh_.

Clarke looks at him shyly, licks her lips and then gives him a small smile.

“Get it Griffin,” Raven calls, making the rest of the circle chuckle.

Bellamy awkwardly shifts towards Clarke, his eyes flitting down to her lips before back up to her eyes, searching for any sign that she’s uncomfortable.

“Relax,” she whispers, smirking slightly, just so he can hear, “I can hear you overthinking all the way from over here.”

Bellamy swallows.  _Funny_ , he thinks,  _considering how close we actually are_.

Before he has a chance to second guess himself, Clarke leans in towards him, their breaths mingling, and Bellamy’s heart takes over his head.

As their lips press together, it’s as if everything falls into place. Clarke makes a noise in her throat that short circuits Bellamy’s mind and makes him push closer—curling one hand into her hair, and resting the other on her hip. She opens her mouth to him and Bellamy melts.

As they pull back to the sounds of whoops and catcalls, Bellamy rests his forehead against hers.

“I was hoping that would happen,” Clarke admits breathlessly, pecking his lips again, “I guess luck was on our side.”

_And yeah, it really was._

~ ~

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come find me on tumblr: [bellarkebc](https://bellarkebc.tumblr.com/)


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 92 and 37 - “Those things you said yesterday… Did you mean them?” and “I shouldn’t be in love with you!”

 

~ ~

“Go away Bellamy!” Clarke yells, trying to slam the door in his face, but Bellamy pushes back against it.

“Just let me in Clarke!” he cries, stumbling when Clarke stops pushing the door, “Let’s just talk about this.”

Clarke throws up her hands in anger and shoves past him, back the way she came, “I don’t want to talk, I just want you to get the fuck out!”

“I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s wrong!” he yells back, reaching out to grasp her arm but she flinches away from him. Bellamy tries to mask the hurt on his face, stepping back and placing his hands up in surrender. “Okay,” he says, calming his voice, “just…tell me what happened.”

“Finn proposed,” she says abruptly, and Bellamy feels it hit his chest—his entire body freezing in shock.

“He…?” he can’t even force the word from his throat.

“Yeah,” Clarke whispers, lowering her head and taking a step backwards so she can sit down on the couch.

“What did…when did…” Bellamy is at a loss for words.

“Last night. After our movie day…” she clears her throat, “We went out to this fancy restaurant, where I couldn’t pronounce half of the words on the menu, and he was acting all nervous and sweet. And he just…suddenly got down on one knee and started pouring his heart out to me.”

Bellamy feels sick.

“Did you-” he stops, thinking it over, “What did you say?” his voice quiet.

Clarke tenses, raising her head to him in anger, frustrated tears springing to her eyes.

“You are such an asshole Bellamy Blake!” she screams.

Bellamy bristles a little but tries to ease the tension instead, “Geez princess, Collins proposes and you tell him that I’m an asshole?”

The joke falls flat, and rage cross Clarke’s features, making Bellamy take a small step back.

She suddenly stands, and marches towards him—barely any space between them.

“Those things you said yesterday,” she starts, suddenly vulnerable, “did you mean them?”

Bellamy gulps, “You heard that?”

“Every word.”

Bellamy closes his eyes, dread coursing through him. He thought she was asleep.

She’d had a long couple weeks, after finally starting her residency, so he had suggested she unwind and come over to watch all of her favourite movies—whatever chick flicks she wanted. She’d agreed enthusiastically, and Bellamy hadn’t been surprised when she fell asleep only 10 minutes in to the third movie—her head in his lap, as he lazily massaged her scalp. He hadn’t meant to start confessing everything to her. But he couldn’t resist. He thought it would be fine—get the weight, that had settled there long before she’d started dating Finn ‘the douche’ Collins, off his chest.

But figures she’d been awake and he’d fuck up everything between them.

 _Explains why she acted weird for the rest of the day before she rushed off to her date with Collins,_ Bellamy thinks bitterly.

“Yes,” Bellamy says, his hands starting to shake, “I meant every word.”

Clarke takes a step backwards, out of his personal space, and opens her mouth in shock. Tears start to spring to her eyes and she brings her hands up to her hair—crazed.

“This is all your fault!” she yells, shoving him, and Bellamy’s heart drops, “I was fine before I heard those things! Happy! I thought-”

Bellamy steps back, running into the coffee table, and sitting down on top of it as his legs give out.

“I would have said yes!” Clarke continues, her hysteria rising as she points accusingly at him, “I thought I was fucking happy with him! But then you say that you lov-” she stops abruptly, “you say those things and everything goes to shit!”

She collapses back onto the couch, her head in her hands. They stay silent for a moment before she looks back up at him, her jaw clenching and her eyes vulnerable.

“I shouldn’t be in love with you!” she chokes, and Bellamy rears backwards.

“What…?”

“There I am—being proposed to by my boyfriend of two years and I can’t get your stupid face out of my mind!” she yells, “And of course he fucking notices and asks what’s wrong and I say that I can’t marry him. I can’t marry him because I love somebody else!”

Bellamy opens his mouth but no sound can get out.

“I broke up with Finn because I’m in love with you,” she admits, dropping her gaze to her lap and clasping her hands together.

Bellamy stands slowly, his mind still catching up with her words—so sure that he must be dreaming. That there’s no way that any of this could be real.

He reaches for her, and thankfully she doesn’t pull away, letting him put a hand over her clasped hands. He kneels in front of her and lowers his face so she has to look at him. Her eyes are a piercing shade of blue—from the tears—and she looks at him like he holds all of the answers. As she turns her hand over to link her fingers with his, Bellamy starts to calm.

“Do you love me?” Clarke asks quietly, searching his face.

“I do.”

A watery smile graces her lips and she leans forwards so her forehead is resting against his. Lifting his other hand, he weaves his hand in her hair and breathes her in.

“I love you, and I always will.

~ ~

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come find me on tumblr: [bellarkebc](https://bellarkebc.tumblr.com/)


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 2 and 12 - “Do you want me to leave?” and “Stay the night. Please.”

 

~ ~

Clarke was hammered. Shit-faced. Drunk as a skunk. Pissed. Whatever phrase you want to use.

She’d finally turned 21 and she had definitely made the most of it. Of course Bellamy, being the overprotective mother hen he was, had stayed relatively sober the entire night—opting for soft drink and water in between every few beers, and scaring off sleazy guys who looked at Clarke, Octavia or any of their friends in the wrong way.

At about 2am, Bellamy had finally convinced the group to stop bar hopping, and that it was finally time to call it in—of course, he was left to carrel all of his drunk friends into various cabs, and had felt relief that Lincoln had a tolerance of steel, so he didn’t have to deal with a drunk Octavia by himself. That would have been a  _nightmare_.

“Bell!” Clarke giggles from behind him, jumping onto his back for a piggy-back ride, and making him grunt under her weight. He hoists her higher and links his arms under her thighs as she rests her head on his shoulder and giggles into his ear. Her breath stinks, but Bellamy can’t find it in himself to care.

“Thank you for walking with me,” she mumbles sleepily, her head lolling.

“Well making you take a cab seemed like a waste when you live right around the corner,” Bellamy jokes.

“You’re a good friend,” she deadpans, suddenly leaning back really far, almost making Bellamy fall, “The bestest.”

“Thanks princess,” he says dryly, leaning forwards so she won’t unbalance them.

When he reaches her apartment, Bellamy makes Clarke stand beside him so he can open the door without her choking him.

As they enter, Clarke flicks off her heels and puts her hair up in a messy bun, stumbling her way through her apartment. Bellamy stops at the door, locking it behind him. As he walks past the lounge room, he chuckles softly at the sight of Clarke lying face down on her couch, her feet up in the air.

“I’m going to get some water and advil into you and then you can go to sleep okay Clarke?” Bellamy calls as he passes her on his way into the kitchen. She makes some incoherent noise in response and he takes it as a good sign that she’s still at least semi-lucid.

Walking back into the lounge room, he sits beside her on the couch and puts a hand to the small of her back to get her attention. She sits up blearily and blinks at the water and tablets he holds in his hand a couple times, before leaning forwards and taking it. After she gulps down all of the water, she starts to lay back down on the couch but Bellamy puts the glass down on the table and pulls her back up.

“Come on, you have to go to sleep on your bed or you’ll fuck up your back.”

“But I’m not old…old man,” she grins at him like she just said the funniest thing on Earth, and leans in towards him.

“You’re catching up though Clarke,” he quips back, “21—you’re practically ancient.”

She frowns at him for a second before bursting out laughing, lifting a hand to touch his face.

“Okay drunky, time for bed,” Bellamy says, moving her hand away from his face and pulling her up off the couch.

She walks towards her room with only minimal stumbling for a few seconds, before she suddenly trips and falls forwards. Bellamy—who had been hovering behind her like she’d only just learnt to walk—catches her by her hips and hoists her up into his arms. She hums against him and taps a melody against his chest as they walk, before he gently lays her down on her bed. Pulling the covers up to her chin, he gently strokes the hair back from her face as she sleepily blinks up at him, giving him a small smile.

“Do you want me to leave?” he whispers, still stroking her hair gently.

She shakes her head and clutches at his wrist.

“Stay the night,” she whispers, sobering, “Please.”

Bellamy nods silently, taking in the soft way she stares at him, and the shining curls that pillow around her head.

After taking off his shoes, he climbs in beside her, and she rolls into his chest.

“G’night Bell,” she whispers, already halfway asleep.

“Goodnight princess,” he whispers back in the dark, gently pressing his lips to her hair and bringing his arms up around her.

He slept easy that night.

~ ~

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come find me on tumblr: [bellarkebc](https://bellarkebc.tumblr.com/)


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompts 11, 13 and 114 - “I’m going to take care of you okay?” and “You can’t die. Please don’t die.” and “It’s midnight, what do you want?”

 

~ ~

Clarke likes sleep okay. Actually no, rephrase—Clarke  _fucking_  loves sleep. So when she gets a call at whatever ungodly hour it is—midnight she realises after blearily glancing at her clock—after pulling a double shift at the hospital, it’s safe to say she is pissed.

“It’s midnight, what do you want?” she says tensely into the phone, not even checking the caller ID.

“Clarke?” she hears Octavia, her boyfriend’s little sister, say from the other end—her voice small.

“Octavia?” Clarke asks, sitting up quickly at the girl’s tone, already looking for her shoes and keys, “What’s wrong?” she asks, hopping to pull on her shoes.

“It’s Bellamy.”

Clarke falters in her movements, her body going cold.

“Where are you?” she asks urgently, rushing out of the door and to her car.

“Ark Memorial hospital” she says softly, and Clarke starts the ignition.

“I’m on my way okay?” Clarke says, feeling slightly numb.

“Okay,” Octavia breathes.

Clarke has never driven so fast in her life.

“Octavia!” Clarke found herself shouting as she ran into the emergency room, looking around frantically for any sign of her.

“Clarke!”

Clarke stumbled slightly under the weight of the 14 year old as she threw herself into Clarke’s arms.

“What happened?” she asks as Octavia leans back, taking in the girl’s pale, tear stained face.

“We were walking home from my friend’s house,” Octavia starts, her lower lip wobbling, making Clarke run a hand soothingly over her hair, “When a car flew around the corner too fast and came up on the curb…he pushed me out of the way but-” Octavia’s face crumbles and Clarke pulls her against her chest, running a hand up her back as Octavia’s body shudders.

She rocks her on the spot for a few moments, composing her own face before pulling back.

“They won’t tell me anything,” Octavia says, wiping stubbornly at her face.

Clarke nods, knowing that they’d probably be hesitant to tell a 14 year old much, “Why don’t you go get us some food from the vending machine down the hall, and I’ll go talk to the nurses okay?” Clarke asks, handing Octavia her wallet. She nods and walks off, leaving Clarke alone.

Clarke lets out a deep breath and runs a hand over her face, before walking up to the desk.

“Clarke? What are you doing back here already?” Harper asks, looking up from her paperwork in confusion, “I thought you were told to go home to get some rest.”

“I was, but my boyfriend got into accident,” she says numbly, watching shock cross Harper’s features, “His name is Bellamy Blake, do you have anything on him yet?”

Harper looks at her in concern before nodding to herself, “Just let me take a look.”

Clarke watches tensely as Harper rifles through her papers, her face falling when Harper seems to find something bad.

“He’s still in surgery at the moment…” she starts, hesitant.

“What is it?” Clarke urges.

“It seems bad Clarke,” she admits quietly, not meeting her eyes.

“Okay,” Clarke says, nodding to herself—not feeling, “It’ll be okay.”

Octavia finds her sitting with her head in her hands and quietly places a kitkat on her lap. Clarke looks up at her with a watery smile and mutters, “Thanks,” before she lifts up her arm to allow Octavia to tuck herself against her.

“Bad?” Octavia asks after a few moments of silence.

“He’s still in surgery,” she says quietly, not wanting to lie to Octavia but still wanting to save her from some of the hurt, “We wont know till he’s out.”

Octavia nods and quietly opens the packet of chips she bought.

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

Clarke tells Octavia to stay out in waiting room the second they’re informed that he’s out of surgery. Although she protests, Clarke can see some of the relief in her eyes.

It hurts to see Bellamy in such a bad state.

She’d been told that it was bad, several times in fact, but it didn’t fully process in her mind until she saw him—pale, bloody, limp, and covered in tubes and gauze.

The second she steps into the room, she feels her legs shake and all the air escapes from her lungs. Blinking back tears, she slowly steps towards his hospital bed, her hands awkwardly hovering over his broken body. A sob escapes her throat as she takes a seat beside him, and she’s suddenly glad Octavia isn’t here to witness this.

“You can’t die,” she cries, gently putting a hand on his arm, wincing at his lack of warmth, “Please don’t die.”

She allows herself 5 minutes to let out all of her emotion—her fear and desperation—before she splashes her face with water and goes to get Octavia.

They have a long night ahead of them.

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

Bellamy wakes 10 long hours after his final surgery, his eyes blinking against the harsh light and a hiss of pain escaping his lips. Octavia doesn’t wake from her position in the corner of the room, but Clarke, who hadn’t taken her eyes off of the rise and fall of his chest, startles upwards, gently placing a hand on the side of his face to stop him from moving in a panic.

His eyes flit to hers and she sees the relief there. She’s sure her own eyes mirror his.

“Clarke?” he asks, his voice hoarse, “Where am I-” his eyes widen in shock and he tries to get up, wincing as he moves, “Octavia? What happened to Octavia!?”

“Octavia’s fine,” she says, pushing him back down gently.

Bellamy looks to her, searching for a lie. Finding none, he relaxes, setting his head back down on the pillow with a sigh.

“I feel like I got hit by a truck,” he grumbles.

“Not quite,” Clarke jokes, tears stinging her eyes—simply relieved that he’s awake.

Bellamy shuts his eyes and gives her a small smile. Clarke pulls her chair up closer to him and touches his arm with one hand, while tracing over his face with the other.

He leans into her touch and Clarke feels a lump form in her throat.

“I thought you were going to die,” she admits softly, her finger tracing over his lips.

Bellamy’s eyes blink open and he slowly raises an arm to grab her hand, kissing her fingertips. He places his arm back down on the bed, tired, and looks over at her gently, trying to mask his pain.

_Stupid hero._

“I’m going to take care of you okay?” she says softly, running the back of her hand against his cheek.

“Okay princess,” he breathes, his eyes already fluttering shut again.

 _He’ll be okay. He’s gonna be okay._  Clarke repeats in her head.

And she finally allows herself to believe it.

~ ~

 


End file.
